


Take a Load off Annie

by elation



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 11.12, Coda, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Some Cuddling, bed sharing, my sickening newfound love for these two, seriously I've got it bad, the cute stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-12
Updated: 2016-02-12
Packaged: 2018-05-20 00:17:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5985943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elation/pseuds/elation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Instances like tonight are proof that sometimes it's hard to escape your past. Claire can't sleep until she knows Alex isn't eating at herself from the inside. Coda 11.13.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take a Load off Annie

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! So I just recently got around to watching _Don’t You Forget About Me_ and as anyone that even remotely knows anything about me will tell you, I like to make everything gay. Just because I can. Thus this was born. I'm the complete opposite of sorry. Enjoy.

The alarm on her bedside table illuminates her room in a stereotypical, gross red. 10:54, it says. Three minutes have passed since the last time she checked. This is agony. 

It’s late. Dinner dishes rest tucked inside their raggedy, old dishwasher. The Winchesters are long since headed back to Kansas. Jody’s finished her coming down ritual of lying on the couch with a cold one. The lights are out. The house is silent. All this and yet, the day feels unfinished. She tries not to think about the reason why. 

It doesn’t work. _God damnit._

Peeling back her mountain of covers, Claire lets her socked feet rest on the cool hardwood floor while simultaneously working up the courage to leave the comfortable confines of her bedroom. To walk into uncharted territory, into danger. 

She’s being overdramatic, she knows. 

So she ignores the anxious feeling in her gut and the red lights in her head telling her to turn back, to not bother, because she needs this. After the night they’ve had, they both do.  

It’s an easy path to Alex’s bedroom - down the hall, to the right. In the darkness with no one to judge her, she extends her arms as far as they’ll go and awkwardly shuffles to her destination, afraid to stump her toe or even worse, fall flat on her face. After all that’s been going on, not to mention the hoax monster discoveries the last few months, she tries to protect the tinniest amount of dignity she’s got left when she can. 

The light under the younger girl’s door is faint, barely noticeable from down the hall and for the smallest of moments Claire is scared she’s already turned in for the night. Gaining hallway, she realizes that presuming such a thing after the night Alex has had is silly and a more accurate assumption probably would be that she’s up reading another one of her beloved romance novels that she likes she act as if she doesn’t read, but carries with her like a security blanket everywhere she goes. It’s rather cute, Claire tends to think most days, but not tonight, not when she knows what kind of headspace she’s in. Stress fuels her insomnia and when Claire knocks, she raps on the wood _one, two, three,_ and waits.

The response is immediate, alert and awake, when Alex says, “Come in?”, but it’s more of a question than a command, because she knows who it is by her knock and it’s late and neither of them knows quite why Claire is standing on the other side of that door. She sticks her head in.

Inside, instead of a book, Alex is gripping onto a bright purple flat-head brush, mid-stroke. Her hair is damp and her eyes are a weird, off gray in the dim light. The loose shirt she has on reads MARSHALL HIGH SOFTBALL and perched on her nose are a pair of overly large, angular lenses with a thick black rims. Claire’s heart speeds up a little quicker because she is nothing if not always beautiful in every way, in all facets, that Claire’s come to know the other girl in. It’s unnerving. Brunettes have always been her weakness. 

She still hasn’t said anything and Alex continues to stare at her with ethereal eyes. There’s no judgement in them, only curiosity, and suddenly Claire’s forgotten why she even left her room in the first place. She needs to say something, but she’s not sure what, and so she settles for, “It’s late.” instead of oh, how about “ _Are you okay?”_ or _“Sleep well.”_ or even _“Thank you for offering your life up for mine today.”._  No, none of that, because Claire is an idiot and lacks any sort single social skills and once something’s out there’s no reeling it back in, no matter how much she wants to. She holds back a wince at her inability to talk to people properly and is scared her insensitivity is going to be met with harsh words. 

Instead, Alex surprises her when she replies, “I know.” Claire looks up from her inspection of the floor and locks eyes with the brunette when what she responds with is not what she expected. _Go the hell away_ or _fuck off_ is more like it _,_ but maybe this newfound Alex is going to continue exceeding all expectations. She sure hopes so. 

Back on her bed, Alex gives her intruder a faint smile, puts down her brush, and pats the open space on the bed beside her. A universal _come sit by me,_ but that can’t be right.

Claire’s still waiting for the punch line. She looks around, dumbfounded, waiting for someone to jump out and say, “Gotcha! The girl you’ve been crushing for the last two months actually still hates you! Congratulations, you’re gullible! Ha!” 

But there is no one, aside from both girls who are currently waiting for the other to make a move. When Alex realizes Claire has no intention of walking over, she laughs – _a breathless, small laugh,_ actual laughter, and says, “Well come on. I don’t bite.” Claire isn’t so sure. Her legs carry her to the bed, anyway. 

Sinking down beside Alex, Claire’s senses are invaded by lavender and she instantly starts to relax. She smells amazing. Of course she does. 

When it looks like Claire has situated herself, finding a comfortable position and pulling her socked feet to rest beside her, Alex picks her brush off her nightstand and offers it over. It’s a silent, but obvious question that Claire happily obliges. 

It remains quiet aside from the steady tug and pull of the brush. Instead of tense, though, Claire finds it to be comfortable, soothing even. Something she could fall asleep to. She briefly wonders if Alex is as beautiful asleep as awake, already knowing the answer is yes. It’s always yes. 

The peacefulness doesn’t last long, because they both know there’s a reason for Claire being here. 

Alex is raw and honest when she says, “I’m scared of what happened, that’s why I can’t sleep.” Ah, the truth. 

Claire is going to be strong for her, because at the end of the day, she knows where Alex is coming from. Way more than she’d like to think about, in all actuality, but understanding is she. 

This time, Claire tries to find the right words, careful not to say the wrong thing.

“I…know. Look, there’s no reason to be, you know? You’re safe. You’re here. That dirtbag isn’t going to hurt you again, not after what we did to him.”

Alex is quick for a rebuttal and it’s kind of hard not to think that she hasn’t been sitting her thinking of an argument for why she’s feeling the way she is, as if she needs one. She rushes out, “It’s not just about him, though. Sam Winchester is right, there will be more, and I can’t risk losing Jody…and-and you, after all you two have done for me, and I knew from the beginning that I would never live a normal life, but that doesn’t mean I want to drag you two down with me, and some nights I do nothing but wake up in a cold sweat, tears running down my face after these-these nightmares, god the nightmares, and I’m never going to escape, am I? I’m never going to escape and I’m never going to be happy and who the fuck _cares_ because I deserve this, I deserve what’s coming to me after all the people I’ve lured into that nest. It didn’t matter that they were sleaze bags because they were _people_ with families and children and lives and I took all of that, _all_ of that from them, they had no choice and I’m a murderer and a manipulator and oh my god a traitor and I shouldn’t be allowed any generosity whatsoever and now I’m pulling you and Jody down with me and I’m so-so-so…” and whatever else she has to say is cut short, because her sobs have reached their peak and she’s gasping for what little air she can while Claire stares wide eyes and at a loss for words at the amount Alex has spewed out in under two minutes. 

She has turned around at this point, facing Claire, one hand currently in a death grip on the blonde’s wrist and the other fruitless attempting to hold in her loud, convulsive gasps. She’s a mess and Claire’s heart is breaking for her. 

Immediately, Claire surges forward to grasp on tightly, damn the consequences, and Alex latches on, too. She’s shaking and hysterical, and Claire keeps holding on, rubbing reassuring circles into the other girl’s back. Alex’s continues on crying. “Shhh, hey. It’s okay. You’re okay, pretty girl. Yeah, that’s right, get it all out.” They rock slowly, and Alex sags onto Claire like she’s too tired to hold her self up.

Somewhere between the whispers of encouragement, soothing touches, and deep breaths, Alex starts to calm down. With much reluctance, Claire lets her go out of the suffocating hold she has on her. 

When Alex pulls back, her eyes are red and she pushes her dorky glasses on top of her head to furiously wipe at her tears. Claire remembers the tissue box resting next the lamp on her side table and turns around half way to make a grab for one. Between their hugging session and Alex’s attempt at calming down, they’ve linked hands. It makes for an awkward turn, but Claire makes it work and when she hands over a few tissues, Alex accepts them enthusiastically.

Claire is patient while Alex attempts to finish calming herself down and tries to not get too excited that they’re holding hands. It’s hard, but when she sees Alex dabbing the last of her tears, she has to remind herself this is a temporary thing, close contact her friend needs after a traumatic event. 

That’s why when Alex tosses her tissues across the room, aimed at the trashcan, she remains calm and poised for what the other girl is about to say when her eyes land back on Claire. 

Within her own time Alex opens her mouth, wavers, scrunches up her face again as if she might cry for a second time, and calms. Claire tries for her. 

“I…I know this is a dumb question, but are you okay?” She squeezes Alex’s hand for good measure. 

A small smile, the one she’d given to her when she came in earlier, reappears on Alex’s lips and Claire cheers for small graces. She hopes maybe one day she’ll see just how far that smile goes. Tonight, though, she sees it as a success. Baby steps. 

“I am.” And there is no need to say thank you, because Claire’s getting a little better at reading between the lines and the look on Alex’s face is enough for her. 

She’s happy that Alex has gotten what she’s so desperately needed to get out, because that’s all It takes - someone to listen. So many parts of their lives were things left unchangeable and more often than not, battles were just no-win situations. That didn’t mean they had to bear their burdens alone. Claire is beginning to learn that, and Alex seems to be not far behind. Jody’s teachings are starting to hit home for them both. It’s refreshing and there’s no place she’d rather be right now than in this makeshift family of three strong headed females, and sometimes Donna, all equipped with their own mental issues and fucked up pasts. It’s home, for now anyway. 

Sighing happily to herself, Claire finally feels like the day is finished. It’s her time to make her exit, to let Alex finally get some sleep, but the other girl stops her, grabbing on tight to her hand that Claire had forgotten she was holding. 

When she looks back, Claire sees Alex for the first time expressing what she guesses to be shyness. It’s weird, she thinks. She finds she doesn’t like it in contrast. That is, until Alex timidly says, “Stay.”

And Claire knows she’ll never leave. 

That night the two girls huddle under the covers and Claire starts Alex from the beginning, about her Daddy, about Castiel, and Alex matches her deep, dark secrets with what years of captivity was like, about vampires, about the nest. It’s deep and emotional and theirs. 

They fall asleep like that, tangled up in each others legs and whispered mysteries. That morning, Jody waits until after she’s made breakfast to wake both of them up, and doesn’t ask a single question. 

They all go back to their lives, more or less, if not a little differently. Claire starts classes back up and attempts to interact more with her peers. Alex joins the math team and makes new friends. Coming home is never the same. 

 

 

_End._

_ _

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you're on Tumblr and would like to reblog this you can do so [here!](http://firemanwinchester.tumblr.com/post/139161341584/i-just-recently-got-around-to-watching-dont-you) xx


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